


The Second Stage of Grief

by AGJ1990



Category: Walker (TV 2020)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 20:07:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28926288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AGJ1990/pseuds/AGJ1990
Summary: Walker doesn't understand why Stella is so angry with him, but to Stella, it makes perfect sense.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 17





	The Second Stage of Grief

**Disclaimer: The characters of Walker do not belong to me.**

For ten months, Stella had been angry. It had crept down inside her and nestled in every part of her being. She had been angry at her mother for leaving that night and going out and dying. She had been angry at her grandparents for pulling her out of school and forcing her to attend the Catholic school she hated. She had been angry at her uncle for trying to make her not be angry at the person she was furious with.

Her father.

Stella’s anger radiated outward at everyone in her family, but it came from one specific person. The main source of her anger was her father. After the death of her mother, Stella had just gotten used to the idea that things might be okay. They would never be quite good again, because Emily was the center of everyone’s life. Even her uncle and grandparents had lit up every time her mother walked in the room. But, two weeks after her mother’s death and a week after she’d been buried, Stella had thought that maybe things might get to a new normal. An okay normal.

Then her father pulled the rug out from under her.

A case. He was headed out on a case. He’d done it before-head out on a case for a week or two, then come back. Stella didn’t want him to leave, and she told him so. But he’d insisted, saying he’d be back in no more than a week.

A week turned into a month, turned into two, finally turning into ten and a half.

Stella wasn’t quite sure when the anger had taken hold. At first, she was just sad. She missed her daddy and wanted him to back. His absence was only made awful the absence of her mother, who before would do everything she could to convince Stella and her brother that he would be ‘back before you know it’. Emily would fill the time when Stella was younger with crafts she could present to her father when he got home, and when she was older with activities the three of them could do to pass the time. And every time her father was gone, without fail, Stella would dream.

When she was younger, her father was her world. To an extent, he still was. When he got home, he’d seek out Stella and pick her up to kiss and hug and tickle her. In those moments, no matter how much she missed him, Stella felt complete. She felt loved and cared for and never wanted that feeling to go away.

On this night, Stella still felt angry, but for the first time, there was something else kindling beneath the anger. Hope. Her father was coming home and the two of them could share a moment like that again, and everything could be okay. So Stella focused. Hard. Her grandmother was making a dinner for everyone to enjoy, but Stella insisted on making her father’s favorite dinner. She’d practiced it for days, trying hard to get it just right.

Emily’s chili. Five batches later, she had it just right.

August was outside, watching the road to see if and when Cordell would arrive. He was supposed to send Stella a signal into the kitchen, so Stella could get the chili off the stove and cover it to surprise him. As more and more time passed, Stella tried not to get disheartened. She kept a smile on her face, making small talk with her grandmother, but she could see it. Cordell was five minutes late, fifteen, twenty, thirty. When the hour mark finally passed, Abeline took a brokenhearted Stella’s hand.

“Let’s leave it on the stove. If he gets here, we can pull it out.”

Stella nodded and forced herself to smile again. “Okay.”

“He’ll be here. Alright?”

“You really think so?”

“I do.” Abeline said. “Now come on. Let’s eat.”

Every second that ticked by chipped a little more at Stella’s emotional reserve. The hope faded, bit by bit by bit, and her dream of making her father smile with his surprise and him wrapping her up into his arms and everything being okay again faded.

As she went to bed that night, with still no word from her father, Stella was done. She’d given the chili she made to Stan and decided that, just as she’d mourned her mother’s death, she had to mourn her father too. She remembered the five stages of grieving she’d heard about from the counselor her grandmother had made her see. She’d already passed through the denial stage, hoping that her father would come back and make everything okay. With her experience of the last few months, she had no trouble at all with the next step. After all, it was all she’d known for the last few months.

Anger.


End file.
